Aliens in Twinbrook: A Strangers in a Sim Land story

[MarianT]

WEEK SEVEN - EIGHT

     "They should have mentioned that he gave amazing massages," Azura commented, reading the paper.
     "What?" said Carmen.
     "Wei Keane. I mean, Wei Rouge, in his obituary," she said, "but I imagine Cerise wrote it, and she's always been a prude."
     Carmen was sorry he'd asked. His mother seemed to grow more embarrassing by the day. She streaked her gray hair with pink, and she still dressed like a rock star even though she didn't have the figure for it any more. But the worst thing was that you never knew what she might say. Everyone thought it was wonderful that she expressed herself so freely, but Carmen just cringed.
     Then there was his dad. Even if there were leftovers in the refrigerator, even if there was food actually sitting on the counter -- food that his dad had made himself ten minutes ago, he'd start fixing breakfast or lunch or whatever. Not only that, but he'd leave a mess on the counter for Carmen to clean up. Carmen could not wait to leave home.
     And today was the day. In just an hour, he would give Hope her engagement ring, and then they would have a nice ceremony -- just her family and his. At least it would be nice if his mother didn't start reminiscing about her romance with Wei.
     "Mother," he said, "do you think you could--"
     At that moment there was a terrible grinding noise from the dishwasher. Hope was due to arrive any minute; he really couldn't wait for the repairman to show up.   
   


     Were dishwashers considered plumbing or electrical repairs? Carmen wondered as he attacked the machine. He was qualified to handle plumbing problems, thanks to their toilet, which overflowed on a regular basis. A spark suggested it was an electrical, but there was no going back. Luckily he managed to fix the thing without getting electrocuted.
     If only his parents were as easy. Azura was still wearing her bathrobe and playing the guitar; Tim was playing one of his computer games. Neither looked as if they were expecting guests to arrive in a few hours.
     "Don't you think you should start getting ready for the wedding?" he asked.
     "Oh, my goodness," said Azura. "I totally spaced on sending out the invitations. I'm sorry, honey."
     Carmen sighed. He'd got a new tuxedo for the occasion, and he was sure Hope would look gorgeous in her wedding dress, but they could still have a private wedding, and then he'd be out of this insane asylum.
     Just then the doorbell rang. It was Hope.
     Carmen went to give her a big hug, but she put up her hand to stop him. "I'm having a bad day," she said. "I still feel sad about my father; I'm a little nervous about starting my new job at the Bistro; maybe we should wait."
     Carmen was ready to scream. Was nothing going to go right today? He hadn't even been able to get clean clothes out of the dryer because that stupid bear was in the way. You think you're having a bad day, he almost said. But instead he started talking to Hope. And listening. The guy who'd interviewed him for the snitch position (if you wanted to be an international super spy, you had to start somewhere), had said that listening was much more important than talking.
     Eventually Hope let him take her hand. From there it was a short step to putting on the ring.



     Not long after that, they were actually married. Carmen decided to pretend that Azura was playing the guitar for them, even though she was still in her bathrobe.




     Hope's new house -- their new house -- was beautiful. The kitchen and dining room alone were as big as the house he'd grown up in. Carmen certainly hadn't married Hope for her money, but there was no denying that nice surroundings were, well, nice.



     Even though Hope was the one with a talent for cooking, she was so tired when they got home that she went upstairs to take a nap. Carmen fixed a dish of her favorite macaroni and cheese and had a bowl himself before going upstairs to join her. One thing led to another...



     Carmen could have sworn he heard "Rock-a-bye, baby," as he was falling asleep, but that was all right. He was actually looking forward to having children. Little blue children, and little red children -- maybe one of them would inherit Azura's lavender hair.

[MarianT]

WEEK EIGHT

     One day, not long after she graduated from high school, Delores Verd was pulled aside by her mother. "Here," Ivy said. "I've been saving all your life so you'll have enough money to get a place of your own. I just wish I could give you more."
     Through eyes filling with tears, Delores looked at the wad of simoleons in her hand. "But --"
     "You need to move out," Ivy said gently. "You have to have a baby -- it's our mission. Whether you marry or not is up to you, but I think it's easier financially if you have a partner."
     "But Carla --"
     "If your sister marries anyone, it will be that awful vampire Sameh," said Ivy. "You're my only hope."
     Delores took the money and found a house -- a shack, really -- that was not far from home. She could fish from the deck; she could fish from the bathroom window if it would open, but the humidity from the constant fog kept it shut.
     Who was she going to marry? The only boy -- man -- she knew well was Carmen Bellew, and he had just married her best friend Hope. Since her ambition was to become a great scientist, the people she worked with were her father and mother. "You could check out the bar scene," Hope suggested. "I've heard lots of single guys go there."    

 

     What Hope hadn't mentioned was that the single guys were all oldsters and paired with women young enough to be their daughters. Delores got out her address book and looked through the names. One possibility was Homer Kinsey. They'd been friends in grade school, and he always said hi when she took her fish to the grocery store, but she didn't know him well. To her surprise, he accepted when she asked if he wanted to meet her at the bar.
     Unfortunately, their date couldn't last long. Delores was already sleepy, and Homer had somewhere else to go. He did tell her he was glad she'd asked him, that he'd always wanted to go out with her but had never had the courage to pick up the phone.
     Two days later, on Saturday, they met in the afternoon in the park. Delores discovered that one of the things they had in common was a love of fishing. They decided they would check out one of the more secluded fishing holes, but in the meantime, they needed lunch. Delores decided to splurge and go to Le Bistro.



     Lunch lasted too long for them to go fishing, so Delores invited Homer back to her place. She had a couple of old armchairs, but the most comfortable place to sit was actually on the bed. Pretty soon they were doing more than just sitting and chatting.



     They got married the next day and immediately decided to move someplace larger. "We'll need more room for the baby," Delores explained to Homer, when she suggested that he sell his truck. He wasn't happy about the idea ("It's a Vorn P328," he protested), but Delores was adamant.

     Their new house was one of the prettiest places Delores had ever seen. "It's like living in a treehouse," she exclaimed. There wasn't much space -- in fact, there was less space than she'd had before -- but it had an incredible view. On one side you could see the old overgrown railroad embankment, and the other looked out across the estuary. She and Homer agreed they could solve the space problem by building a deck underneath the house. They moved the kitchen down there along with Homer's easel and bar (he wanted to become a mixologist). Delores would have been happy to keep it that way, but Homer didn't like being out in the dark. Delores started teasing him about that, but when he got grumpy, she stopped.



     Not long after they moved, Khaki Verd joined the family. He wasn't green, which meant Delores would have to have another baby, but she thought she could live with that. Nooboos were fun.

[Natsuko]

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. Anyways, great updates!

[MarianT]

WEEK NINE

     Hope couldn't believe they were all gone. Her mother Cerise, Carmen's mother Azura, and Ivy, the mother of their friend Delores -- all three had passed on within a few days of each other. Carmen suggested they might have departed in their spaceship, but Hope couldn't believe that. Her mother had told her a long time ago that their spaceship had been destroyed when it landed.
     But this time, the grief was more manageable. She just couldn't feel sad when she was teaching Slate how to walk, for example.



     Even though he had her mother's coloring, he really reminded Hope of her father, Wei. He was already interested in art, however, which was something he must have inherited from Carmen's mother, Azura. He could bang on the xylophone for hours, and his favorite book was the one on finger-painting.
     And now there was the newest addition to the family, Denim. It was too soon to tell what he would be like.



     They had moved right after Denim was born. Much as Hope had loved their old house, she just couldn't deal with the garden. Apple trees, bell peppers, garlic, onions, lettuce, tomatoes, grapes -- they were all delicious, but she couldn't be outside long enough to work on more than one or two plants without feeling ill. Carmen did what he could, but his job was very demanding. After several promotions he now had a beat to patrol. With his next promotion he'd be able to enter the secret service.
     The new house was -- adequate. Its biggest advantage was that it had a separate bedroom for Slate and Denim. Hope was looking forward to decorating it with rocket ships in celebration of their extra-simestial heritage. The second advantage was that there was no garden. From now on, Hope would buy all her vegetables from the grocery store.
     

[MarianT]

WEEK NINE

     On the other side of town, Delores was teaching Khaki how to talk. He was Homer's child, all right. She tried a dozen different words, but he didn't respond until she said, "Ambu zerkula?" which happens to be Simlish for fishing rod.



     She worried about Khaki sometimes. Given the way he played with his doll house, she was afraid he might grow up to be the kind of person who tortured characters in computer games. Hope gave her some reassurance. "It's a phase they go through," she said. "Slate used to do that, but now



he spends all his time trying to make them kiss and have a baby."
     But soon Delores had other things to worry about besides the way Khaki played with toys. "I'm having twins?" she screamed, just as she went into labor.



     Delores had wanted a little girl, and she had wanted a baby with green skin. She hadn't expected to get two of them. They'd have to use a shoehorn to get another crib in, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She just wished Ivy were still around to see her granddaughters Kelly and Chartreuse.

[TheChronicR]

Wow, awesome updates, Marian! And the kids are just so so cute. Perfect, great job.

[MarianT]

While the story is more important than the score, the score is fun, too. On Week 10, Day 70, 9pm, my green twins became toddlers, for a base score of 1861 (I count from 8am, because that's when the game starts). Out of 10 2nd and 3rd generation children, 2 had all-alien physical characteristics for 200 pts., 4 had red, blue or green skin plus alien hair or eyes for 280 pts., 1 had green skin for 50 pts., and 2 had one characteristic for 40 pts., for a total of 570 pts. LTH for the members of the bloodline was 137,263 pts. Total 1861 - 570 - 1.4 = 1289.6.

I'll have to go back and look at the rules, but I think I can move to a long life (which will make transferring between this and the challenges easier), and I can play any member of the bloodline, which means I can work on Carla and Myron. I might even be able to travel.

I'll keep writing. Right now I have 4 alien households, with 11 to go.

Thanks for your encouraging comments!

[MarianT]

WEEK ELEVEN

     Carla Verd was in jail again. "So, you're doing life on the installment plan?" said the guard who checked her in.
     "Howdy, job security," said the guard who gave her a receipt for her car keys.
     "Yo! Carla!" shouted half a dozen inmates as she walked to her cell.
     Carla curled up on her cot. She'd skipped breakfast this morning, and she knew from experience that jail food had the same horrifying quality as burnt waffles. Oh well, she needed to lose a few pounds anyway. She'd just try to sleep through the whole thing.
     "Carla." The voice was quiet, but insistent.
     She opened her eyes and looked around. No one was there.
     "Carla."
     This time she could see that no one was there, yet she could distinctly hear someone.
     "Who are you?" she asked.
     "People call me the Watcher," said the voice. "Carla, don't you think it's time for a change?"
     "I can't help being a kleptomaniac," Carla said sulkily. "I was born that way."
     "You were born artistic, too," said the voice. "And with a talent for sculpting. Why don't you try developing those?"
     Carla shrugged, and then looked around nervously. People would think she was insane if they could see her talking to herself.
     "You're almost an elder," the voice continued. "Don't you think it's time you left the gang at the Warehouse?"
     "You sound just like my mother," Carla groused.
     "Ivy is dead," said the voice. "You don't need to get back at her anymore. Isn't it time you stopped rebelling against her?"
     "You don't understand!" wailed Carla. She waited, but there was no response from the Watcher. "I was always a disappointment because my skin wasn't green. Delores was the favored one. I was the one who looked just like my no-good father.
     "And you know what?" she added. "I'm glad she died before she could see Delores's precious little green twins. So there!"
     There was still no answer. Great. This Watcher had got her all riled up, and now she couldn't sleep. So, this Watcher thought it was time for a change. Well, she had to admit that being the oldest cutpurse at the Warehouse wasn't much fun. And she did have a couple of projects at home that she never had time to work on because she was either at work or in jail.
     "All right," she said. "I'll quit my job and register as a self-employed sculptor. Are you satisfied?"
     "There is one other thing," said the Watcher. "If you're interested in children, you might try Notzo Curious instead of Sameh Jones-Brown."
     "I suppose you're prejudiced against Sameh because he's a vampire," Carla said crossly.
     "No, I'm prejudiced because he's ugly," said the voice. "Twinbrook doesn't need any more ugly residents."
     Carla giggled at that. Notzo Curious, huh? Well, they'd been friends for ages. She hadn't tried any romantic moves because she was a little self-conscious about her weight. But if she quit her job, she'd have more time for exercising. And maybe she'd stop by the salon and get a makeover.




     A few days later, Carla had to admit she was happier than she'd ever been. She and Notzo had gotten married, she'd quit her job, and she was loving sculpting. She'd just received a check for $133 from the consignment shop for one of her paintings. Why hadn't anyone told her that art was more lucrative than crime? There was only one fly in her ointment -- she kept having to vomit. What was up with that? she wondered.




     

[MarianT]

WEEK ELEVEN

     With Cerise gone, it was quiet around the house -- except, of course, when Wei's ghost was out and about, playing computer games. It had taken Myron a while to move into his parents' bedroom, but soccer at three in the morning had done it.
     Once Myron had made that change, others soon followed. He had been dating Lourdes Perryman for a long time, but she had grown too old to have children. Since his mother's dying wish had been for him to contribute to the bloodline, Myron had had to think about marriage. His first step was to break up with Lourdes.



     That had gone worse than he expected. He'd hoped they could remain friends; he'd hoped that Lourdes would understand. But apparently she took offense when he told her that she was just not the right age.
     Myron then reviewed his address book. He arranged to have lunch with Pansy Prudence, and saw immediately that her hair had turned white. Her friend Emerald was also at the restaurant; her hair was white, too. Myron began to feel panicky; if his friends from high school were growing old, how soon would it happen to him?
     Returning home from lunch, Myron met the maid leaving the house. Usually he was at work or at the gym when she cleaned the house, but today he was home early because of his date with Pansy. She was blonde, she was nicely built, she was young. She was really quite appealing in that white cap and apron, and Myron could easily imagine enjoying a bit of ooh-la-la with her. He chatted with her a bit, long enough to find out that her name was Greta and she liked being alone.
     "I vant to be alone -- with you," he said, but she didn't get the reference to Greta Garbo and gave him a strange look as she left.
     On his next day off, he invited her out, not wanting to get in trouble as her employer. She was willing to let him kiss her, but nothing more. On Monday, he hurried home from work, hoping to catch her before she left. The maid was just leaving, but she was a dark-haired girl, not Greta.
     Myron called Greta immediately. "I need to see you," he said, and she agreed to come right over.
     He waited for her by the mailbox. After a few hugs and kisses, he got up the nerve to propose, and to his relief, she accepted.



     The last item on his to-do list, trying for baby, was so much fun that Myron thought he might try it again some time.


     Myron would occasionally have bouts of insomnia, when he could go for days without sleeping. He figured it was something he'd inherited from his mother, who had written Vampires from Outer Space during one night and Intensely Red during another. When Myron couldn't sleep, he would often play chess with his father.



     Unfortunately, he had failed to warn Greta about this habit, so she had rather a shock. Later, when the Repossession Man came, Greta said it



was all Myron's fault. The sight of the ghost had quite made her forget all about paying the bills. And besides, there was the baby.



     Yes, the baby. Her name was Scarlet, and Myron thought she was beautiful.

[MarianT]

WEEK TWELVE

     One day in Twinbrook, a strange wind blew through town. No one knew what had generated it.
     The first to feel its effects were Myron and Greta Rouge. To their delight they were able to buy a stroller and take the newest addition to the family, little Stacy, for a walk in it.



     Next to suffer the consequences was Carla Verd. Although she was very happy with the progress her daughter Sylvia was making, she was much distressed to find that her husband Notzo was flirting -- if not doing something more -- with some other woman. "You will never suffer," she promised Sylvia, as she tossed her into the air.



     Hope and Carmen Bellew suddenly found that their teen-aged son Slate was more of a handful. He had mood swings, he set booby traps, he wanted to learn how to drive. Carmen didn't know which would wear out first -- the brakes, the tires, or his patience. Denim, on the other hand, was delighted with everything. He had a treehouse and belonged to a scout troop; greater joy could no 9-year-old have.



     Delores Verd had the weirdest experience. Kelly and Chartreuse were happy with their hopscotch board, their sandbox, and their bunkbeds.



But Khaki had grown up so swiftly, going from teenager to young adult in no time. He had moved out into the house that Hope and Carmen Bellew used to have, and he wanted to become a scientist, just like his mother and grandparents. "Grandmother would have loved the garden," he kept saying when he called her after he moved in.



     All of the adults were still a little shaken up by the event, and a little apprehensive about the future. The children might be happy with the new stuff -- new ways to avoid homework, sniffed Homer Verd -- but more than one sim feared there might be trouble on the horizon.
     Nevertheless, there were compensations. One morning, when their children were at school and they both had the day off, Carmen and Hope Bellew discovered they could woo-hoo in the shower...

     

[TheChronicR]

Keep up the good work, Marian! Just so you know, I'm reading all the updates once they're posted! They were all awesome, and I totally can't wait for more!

[MarianT]

Thanks!  I didn't want to add any updates until the move was complete. (And I'm amazed it all happened so quickly! -- not like the bad old days.)

[MarianT]

WEEK TWELVE

     The worst thing about Notzo's betrayal was that Carla found out about it the same day she became an old woman. It didn't help that Notzo was already an elder or that his girlfriend Shelly Carlton was an elder, too. Somehow, knowing that the first romance of her life was over and that she probably wouldn't have a second just made her miserable. Carla packed up all of Notzo's stuff and put it by the mailbox, changed the locks and left a note on top, but that didn't really make her feel better.
     Playing with Sylvia helped; to her surprise Carla found that playing with Sylvia's toys helped even more.



     It was something she had never been able to do before. Her mother Ivy had encouraged her to work on her paintings rather than get a toy box, and she hadn't wanted Notzo to think she was weird. But Sylvia was too young to know that old ladies weren't supposed to play with toys. Carla decided to splurge on a few more things for Sylvia. She bought a spring rider for her. It looked like a large pink pig, but the catalog said it was a bucking bronco. And she went downtown to buy a few books.



     On her way there, she got a phone call from Notzo. "You've got some explaining to do," he said. "Meet me at the Red Rendezvous."
     She had explaining? thought Carla. She had explaining to do? What about Notzo? Well, she didn't want to hear his explanation. Whether he'd fallen out of love with her or fallen in love with Shelly -- either way, she just didn't want to know.
     "There was mud on the bottom of that box, and it got all over the back seat of my car," he started complaining. "Who's going to clean it off? That's what I want to know."
     Carla couldn't believe that he was yelling at her about something like that. She'd been half-afraid that he would be all apologetic and make her feel guilty about kicking him out. "Clean it yourself," she snorted and walked out.



     That evening she read Jimmy Sprocket and the Squishy Stone to Sylvia. She thought it was the best book she had ever read, and she couldn't wait to go back to the bookstore for more.

[MarianT]

WEEK FIFTEEN

     The Watcher stared at the screen sadly. The aliens had gone beyond her control. The whole town of Twinbrook could not be accessed. She would wait a few days to see if some deus ex machina would bring back the interface, but it looked as if they were gone. The three originals remained, however, and one teenager, Denim Bellew. Perhaps they would try again.

[Natsuko]

Aw, that's to bad :'-(
Denim looks OK, he just looks sorta creepy- like he's staring at me. :O